Till I Hear You Sing
by Incidental
Summary: And sometimes at nighttime I dream that you are there, but wake holding nothing but the empty air." Miss Black and Young Master Malfoy were forced to end their arrangement. They were not forced to agree to it and accept it.
1. Prologue

So I've wanted to write a multi-chapter Lucissa story for a while now and a few ideas have been buzzing around my head. This is one of those many ideas, so let's run with it. :D Based off of a number of things from songs to roleplays, named for a song from Andrew Llyod Webber's Love Never Dies. I've never done a multichapter piece worth talking of, so any criticisms will be appreciated!

I don't own any characters you recognize, but if you know of anyplace I can get a reasonably priced Lucius drop me a line!

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_The day starts, the day ends, time crawls by._  
_ Night steals in, pacing the floor_  
_ The moments creep,_  
_ Yet I can't bear to sleep_  
_ 'Till I hear you sing._

_And sometimes at night time_  
_ I dream that you are there,_  
_ But wake holding nothing but the empty air._

_Let hopes pass, let dreams pass; Let them die!_  
_ Without you, what are they for?_  
_ I'll always feel No more than halfway real_  
_ 'Till I hear you sing once more._

_-'Till I Hear You Sing, Love Never Dies._

Miss Narcissa Black of the Most Ancient and Pureblood House of Black was outside on the warmest of spring days, the wind wiping through her blonde hair. The pond before her was the clearest of blues, the very same shade as the silk of her robes. The grass was green beyond green. The very air tasted crisp and perfect.

It was within moments that she felt a presence behind her, and then an arm wrap around her small frame. If the warm, clean smell of the male in question had not enveloped her so quickly she might have screamed and lashed back. Instead, Narcissa sunk against the male's chest and took a hearty breath of his fresh scent. Her eyes slid shut as she felt lips press along her ear and collarbone. A wisp of blond hair that was not her own brushed over her suddenly bare shoulders.

She was naked and Lucius Malfoy's hands and lips were roaming over her body in the perfect sunlight on that perfect afternoon. Her hands reached up to grasp for his and suddenly she was groping for air. Nothingness, darkness, and Narcissa Black awoke in her own cold bed with a start.

It was not the first time such a dream had managed to slip into her mind. It was as if her soul enjoyed dangling that unattainable treasure in front of her nose and making her beg for it until she ached and could scream. The young woman turned to her side and clutched the down pillow to her chest, biting her lip as she held back that cry of outrage. Her whole body tingled and her mind was reeling.

It had been six long months since the engagement had been broken off between Lucius and she. It had been at his family's annual gala. The scene played behind her eyelids every time she closed them, the dropping feeling her stomach repeating every time she took a breath. The pain that ran through her body was ever present.

It had been his mother, no one else who'd spoken when the small party had adjourned to the drawing room for a moment. Lucius hadn't looked at her as the blonde woman looked down her nose at the wisp of a girl standing before her.

'Lucius is growing older, Miss Black. As my husband grows frail it is most vital that his heir be married and the next heir be born.'

Narcissa had nodded along like the idiot she was, with that smile still pinned to her face. Of course she and Lucius would marry immediately after her schooling was complete. She was unsure if there had ever been a debate when it came to that small matter. From the very moment she and Lucius become….involved the day dreaming and musings had talked of the freedoms they'd have together when she finished her schooling. But apparently that was not to be.

'Sooner. We wish him married by the end of the summer, and that will just not work. You will be too young, too fresh to be a bride. The engagement is terminated, Miss Black.'

A joke? And early Christmas joke? Her stomach had heaved, she'd sought Lucius' eyes for some form of comfort, some form of mischief to prove it was one ill-tasted joke. She'd backed from the room, still nodding and giving that smile (though it had faltered slightly). No crying, no screaming. She'd floo'ed home, retired to her suit, pulled off the engagement ring and placed it in its tiny velvet box under her pillow.

It wasn't until she'd been undressed and curled between her sheets that the whole thing hit her with a gust of wind.

No more.

And here she lay, six months later and still unable to stop that terrible feeling penetrating her soul with each though of Lucius. They had been in love, Dear Merlin! It was the perfect match, the perfect everything. Their families had been perfectly matched, their tastes, their hair. The way his hands had felt around hers, the way his body pressed against hers when she sought comfort.

Down to the very way his smile grew each time her own did was so perfect. They were always perfect. And now it was nothing. Memories of walks, stolen kisses, flowers pinned to her hair made her chest rise and fall with sobs still- all these months later. Her mother had tried to comfort her; the first love was always the hardest to lose. The woman didn't understand; there would be no other love. That Narcissa was sure of.

If she could not have Lucius, she would die an old maid.

It wasn't as if she had a choice in the matter either, Lucius had ruined her. What would she do? What could she do?

And somewhere across the countryside lay another blond. His strong arms held a similar pillow against his chest, stroking it in his sleep. His mind danced between dreams and reality, the aching need in his own groin causing him to growl and bite into the feathered material beneath the pillow. Damn it! Damn it all to hell and back!

Another growl escaped his lips as he rolled onto his back. What was he to do? Six months and Cissy was still on his mind (along with other body parts). He could not sleep without burying his head into the very pillow she'd once rested her own head on and seeking out the smell of her vanilla scented soap. His muscled body searched for her smooth one, to mold against his own.

What had the blasted woman done to him?

The eighteen year old found himself discontent with life since the moment their agreement was declared null. It had not mattered he had not found her body in his bed for the trivial months leading up to that Christmas disaster. What had mattered was that she would no longer be there- for any activities. He'd retired many a night, longing to hold her in his sleep, to seek her womanly warmth in more ways than one. He'd half women, still dreaming foggily of the mornings he'd spent with her during the previous summer.

His parents had left for a tour of Europe, and Narcissa's father assumed she was staying with her recently married elder sister. It had been a blessing, the many nights Narcissa had been able to slip into his home without notice from any parties but each other. He'd wake to find the blonde hovering over her. He'd take her for morning walks, tucking yellow flowers into her silvery hair. She'd ruined him, taken away any roguish wiles he'd ever been possibly able to have.

He'd attempted to go out cavorting and drinking and attempting at enjoyable endeavors but he'd been unable to stop picturing Narcissa beneath him. What had she done to him? What had his mother damned him to?

His new fiancé was certainly not his Miss Black. She was all wrong for him; her bony fingers dug into his and her head was too even with his to fit correctly on his chest. He scowled at her attempts at romance and brief intimacy with him. He had been doomed to having mistress it seemed. The brunette was curvaceous where he wanted wispy and thin when he wanted plush. Her hair was a course tangle of brown and her face a freckled and ruddy mess. His palms itched for Cissa's pale flesh each moment his gaze locked with the Greengrass girl's.

He would not have her! He could not have her!

Lucius sat up in his bed, swinging his legs over the sides and moving towards the wash room mirror. His gaze met that of his reflection, silver eyes burning into silver eyes. He'd deflowered and ruined Miss Black not long after their engagement had been announced. His body ached with a different feeling at that very though, his stomach clenching.

She would not marry. He would. She could not marry, he could. His eyes narrowed as he splashed cool water from a basin onto his face, the sprinkling of water droplets clinging to his nose as he met his own gaze again. He would not marry. Not Greengrass of anyone else of her nature; Not anyone that was not Narcissa.

Lucius Malfoy always achieved what he wanted. He only hoped this endeavor would not be the exception that proved the rule.


	2. Chapter One

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, readers, and favorite-ers! So very excited to have you on board. :D 'Nother chapter for you all, from Lucius' POV. Once again I don't know the darling Malfoys nor a few other characters appearing in this story. Ms. Rowling gets all the credit. :)

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Lucius was standing in his mother's parlor, pulling on the cravat tied around his neck. It was already sweltering on the second weekend of June. His robes and other layers of vests, coats, and robes were stifling- the fire dancing in the fireplace only seemed to make it worse. It seemed that his fiancé was always cold. She'd tried to curl against his already overheating body earlier, when he'd sat on the love seat. He'd assumed she'd been cold at least, because that was the only thing that would have made Miss Black disregard decorum and cuddle her body against his. He'd stood quickly, ordering a house elf to light a fire for Miss Greengrass. She hadn't looked pleased, and the look she had on her face seemed to be forced.

And why should her look of pleasure be the slightest bit false? Lucius didn't bother to contain a scowl. Miss Black or any woman for that matter would be delighted to be co-hosting the Malfoy's summer country party. It was tradition and it was also traditionally an even to die for. If you weren't there you weren't anyone. If you were lucky enough to attend both the summer party and the Holiday gala you were society gold.

He hadn't even known she was co-heading it. His mother had done all the arrangements herself. Apparently her only call to fame about the whole matter, according to Lucius' father who wasn't very fond of the brunette either, was the name on the invitation. The girl couldn't plan a party in a brown paper bag if she tried. It was unfortunate, Abraxas had informed his wife over dinner two nights before the party (the night before his bride-to-be was to arrive), that Miss Black hadn't been there to help her plan it. She'd done wonders at the Black's Easter party. Miniature unicorns had danced across the crystal centerpiece at the children's table, enough for each child to take on home. Doves had nestled in the trees and the garden was filled with pink and white roses.

Lucius hadn't been permitted to go.

Which was almost funny, considering the current situation. Well, the impending situation and the current argument. Miss Black was to be invited. She was to spend a week in his reach, in his home, in his air- and not in his arms. It was a cruelty clearly his fiancé and his mother had thought up. They were devils, devilettes if you please. The elder was always trying his patience in the name of parenthood and the latter was trying to prove her ownership. Which was also funny because it was he who owned her- and unwillingly at that- and never the other way around.

His parents had no right to his fiancé or her duties (nor did they have those rights with Miss Black, a thought that made him grit his teeth in frustration). They had no right to allow her to help with the party. They had no right to invite Miss Black (or to let her invite Narcissa, if he was considering it as a sort of revenge and staking-of-claim)to torment him (some sick part of him hoped it would be torment to her as well).

"Mother," He began, suddenly jolting himself back into the conversation as thought hit him. "Where are your guests to sleep?"

It was unfortunate his apparent bride to be could not hear. The question had been pointedly directed towards his mother and matron- but the chit felt she had the right to answer. He did not want to hear where she would put the guests; he wanted to know where his mother with her sense of propriety would put them. It was her Miss Greengrass' first explanation that gave the bedding arrangement as her own.

"I'll be in the Blue Room," She began with a smile towards him. She reached out her hand, gesturing him to return to his spot at her side. He ignored it, his scowl growing.

"You mean the Peacock Room," It was not a question but a correction. The Peacock room was blue, yes. It was also the one next to his own set of rooms. The walls were pale blue with green accents. Peacock feathers were in the silk of the chairs and decorative pillows, the blankets and coverings being blue. Blue sheets were beneath those coverings. It was annoying that this girl would not refer to it by its proper name.

Narcissa had always called it the Peacock room. It had been her room on her visits, after all. She'd looked glorious upon the blue silk sheets; he'd had several blue silk robes made for her on that visit. He loved the way her skin looked wrapped in the material. It made his groin ache thinking about it. He waved his hand both to get his mind off of the subject and to move her along.

However, her drowned out most of the names. Her cousin would be in the room across from her- the Rose Room?- and a few of the matrons coming for his mother would be down another hallway. The men and married couples were in another hall section of the house. It gave them more privacy; it also hid the drunken men for Abraxas was known to party with his friends on the occasion.

"Ah yes," The annoyingly brown-haired girl murmured, going down her list. "I forgot about the younger Black sisters. I'd assumed I'd be putting her and her eldest together, but I'd forgotten she and Mr. Lestrange had married. What a shame."

It was not a shame to her. Lucius wanted to grab hold of her next and toss her into the road for such faux-stupidity. It wasn't cute or coy. It was annoying. "So where shall you put her?" he asked, his teeth hardly parting as he asked.

His mother hadn't been blind to his tone as he questioned his bride. Her eyes shot between the two, snatching the paper from the girl. "The Scarlet Room?" She asked. She went to jot down the decision. The younger girl looked pleased, but Lucius was seeing red from the decision.

Abraxas cleared his throat, taking the list from the women. "No, my dear. I fear that room will probably be occupied by a friend of my own. We'll have to put her in the rose room and settled Miss Greengrass' cousin in the Peacock room with her. Unless you wish to forfeit that room for Miss Black and take the larger room for you and your cousin instead?"

The last part was pointed at his son's fiancé. Miss Greengrass probably would have spit like a llama if she hadn't caught herself. Of course she wouldn't give up the Peacock room, but she wouldn't hide her anger at the closeness of she and her cousin (and the closeness of her betrothed and his former lover) well.

Lady Malfoy did not question her husband, choosing to remain silent. She knew the thread he'd issued at her insulting behavior. The Scarlet Room was quite famous. It had been the room for every one of the kept mistresses of the Malfoy family. Her implications on Narcissa had not been caught by Miss Greengrass apparently. Lucius would not give his mother reprieve if she were to insinuate that Narcissa was a whore again.

Especially not if her husband was to blatantly flaunt a new mistress to embarrass her for her impertinence.

Lucius moved to the windows, sighing softly. The first of the carriages were arriving. He'd have to face the public. He'd have to face Miss Black. His Miss Black. He wasn't sure if he should be excited or afraid. His father moved to stand by him, cross his arms.

Lucius removed the guest list from his father's hands, read through the names. A few of his comrades would be there; graduated boys from Slytherin. Girls he knew (though not closely; Miss Greengrass' social group was not his or Narcissa's) dotted the list.

And that's when he noticed it. The numbers were even, including he and his parents. Each male had a female. Everyone would have a partner and escort. Well wasn't that just the bee's knee? He'd get to watch a teenage boy escort his should-be-bride around while he was stuck with his would-be-bride frustrating and embarrassing him. Wonderful.

He felt his father pat his back as the women slipped from the room to great the guests that had already arrived. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, he supposed. Instead, it seemed to draw his focus back to the window.

A glimpse of blonde hair caught his attention. His eyes lingered on Miss Black's form, his mouth salivating slightly as he caught a glimpse of her knee as she stepped down from a carriage. Floo'ing would be embarrassingly dirty for a country party, plus the winged horses that drew each of the carriages would now be permitted to stay for the guest's pleasure. Not that Malfoy Manor lacked in that area, but it was always done.

His eyes quickly darted to the black-haired man that she looped her arm through. He gritted his teeth. He couldn't see who it was from behind, but he was sure they were not friends. If they were an alliance, Lucius would be ending it soon.

And then they turned and Lucius almost felt his heart stop. He would have sworn just then as his eyes met Narcissa's. His stomach churned, his mouth went dry. His body ached. He growled.

And just then Miss Greengrass' bright, shrill voice called (improperly) up the stairs for him. He straightened his cravat, gritted his teeth, and watched Miss Black. When she escaped from his view he turned on his heels and made his way out of the room and down the stairs.


End file.
